... THE WIDOW'S WVAKE. Dle in the mldeig1ht lane, Wheoe glinmmering tapers feebly piercs the gloom, Through many a winking pane, A11 teas rul In the rain, The widow lies within her naked room. Coldly the widov lies, Though woo alid want o0n touoh hor never more; And in? eor beamloss eyes, Griet's well, that rarely dries, Never again shall hoard its oozy a/ore. Cc lidly the widow lies, -od's mighty ...

... LITTLE NELL. I know a little failry bright, Her muime I'll quickly tell, She's scarae three simple feet ia height,- : It ia my littlo Nell. Her hair hangs thiok in many a ourl Of gold around her head, Her teeth are of the whitest pearl, Her lips a ruby red. Her rounded cheek is warmly tinged With softest roseate huo, Her eyes, with silken lashes fringed, Float in ethereal blue. Her breath is ...

... A BdABY SONG, What does littlo birdie say, In her nest at 1)oop of day? Let mno fly, says little birdie, Mlothel, lot ue fly away. itirdle, eat a little longer, Till tho little wings are rtronger. So she ests a little longer, Then she flies away. What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of day ? Baby says, like little birdie, lest mne rise and fly away. Baby, sleep a little longer, Till ...

... W We'll, gentlemen, he oommenced, without any apropos, you've given roe some amusement, I'll do my best in return. My story's professional. You wvon't objeot to that? In the law we heaL and come aeross queer thiugs. I give you warning I had notbing to do with this in question; but my agents in London-a ?? respeotable firm-were engaged in the inquiry. It was all in tha papers some years ago, ...

... ?? Books, Prints, Musiec 4'r.,i revikw, aoe request ed to be left at tr. C. MR ietl's. Reed Liosp Coart, Fleete-stiet, London, addressed To the Editor of the ExETErn FLYrNO roso. Thtae mill be dulyqforicaixdeel, and reerie, ant ?? ,otice. OASSELL's POPULAR NATURAL HISTORY, and ILLUS- TaATED FAmILY Btnut. Two insta3ments of cheap and excellent works. RPoRHATivE SCIENCE. London: Groombridgo ...

... THE WORLD TO COME. If all our hopes end all our fears 'Were prisoned in life's narrow bound; If, tcavellers through tiis vale of ?? We saw no better world boyoud: O! what could oheok tho rising sigh? What eartbly thing could ploasuro give? O! who ?? venture theu to die ? Or who could thou eudure to live? Were life a dark and desert moor, Where meists and elouds eternal epread Tbeir gloomy veil ...